Injuries
by SherlockedinErebor
Summary: Everything is as it should be: Gandalf is annoying Bilbo, Bilbo is making Thorin angry and Bilbo is muttering under his breath because of a certain dwarf king. But when something goes horribly wrong, all of this changes in a very unexpected way. The other T rated Thilbo I've been promising, R&R. This contains slash, don't like, don't read.


**AN**: Since I'm now totally obsessed with Thilbo Bagginshield and the Hobbit all together, I decided to write another T rated fluff story. So here it is, the second T rated Thilbo I've been promising. I just can't get enough of these two, and since I've read pretty much about every T and M story for the pairing, I decided to write another one for you guys!

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own LOTR of the Hobbit, but I seriously wish I did. (*SPOILER ALERT*) Then _all_ of my favorite characters (besides Bilbo) wouldn't die in the end.

* * *

Rain drizzled down and thundered against the roof of the cave. It was hardly big enough to fit their entire company, and those towards the opening were constantly shivering from the biting wind and drops of rain that passed the small overhang of rock.

It had been a long day of travelling; the sky couldn't seem to make up its mind whether to have a storm or not and just when they started making good time, the rain starting pouring down like nobody's business. They would have ventured forward—Thorin was too stubborn a leader to let something like water slow them down—but when a nearby tree struck by lightning almost squashed Bilbo, Kili and Óin…well, they all but sprinted to the nearest cave they could find.

Bilbo sighed as another gust of harsh wind made its way to the back of the cave. He was only thankful that he wasn't up front with Fili, Kili and Bofur, who were shivering and rubbing their arms constantly. As the Hobbit made dinner, he couldn't help but miss the presence of his three friends; they were the only ones who even spoke to him besides Gandalf.

Another sigh escaped the small man's lips; he had been doing that quite a lot lately, and it was getting tiresome. Hobbits weren't made for adventures or travels beyond the Shire. They were made for the simpler things of life; cooking, eating, sleeping, strolling through the spring grass with a pipe between their lips. Now, Bilbo's surrounding were quite the opposite of that, and it was quite obvious that everybody could tell.

His mind flashed back to earlier when the tree almost fell right on top of Kili, Óin and him. It came out of nowhere; a blinding flash of light, a loud crack, then _bam_, they were on their butts on the ground, inches away from being squashed into jelly. It was nobody's fault, yet Thorin still managed to give him a fierce glare, like he had severed the tree himself.

Out of everything he had encountered on this journey, Thorin Oakenshield was the one thing that perplexed the Hobbit most. His stubborn beyond belief and prideful attitude intensified the cold, uncaring demeanor he always carried. He was hard-headed, tenacious, rude and black-hearted in Bilbo's opinion. True, he did value and care for his dwarf friends. But if it came to either saving the Halfling or a bedroll from falling off a cliff, Bilbo was sure the king would choose the latter.

These depressing thoughts made it so the Hobbit didn't hear Thorin speaking to him. He was snapped out of his reverie when the king was suddenly crouched before him, glaring with intense blue eyes right through his being.

"Burglar!"

"Huh? Oh! Yes?"

"My men are hungry, are you nearly finished?" he asked with a sharp tone to his voice. Great; just another reason for the man to hate the Hobbit.

"Oh…yes, I believe it's ready now." Bilbo proceeded to dish out the stew into bowls, the men eagerly taking their share and wolfing it down, like they usually did. Seconds were passed out and thirds were denied as Bilbo cleaned up his mess and washed the bowls out using rainwater.

"Bilbo?" Gandalf came up behind the Hobbit, waiting for him to turn around.

"Yes?" he replied, not looking up from the dish he was vigorously cleaning.

"I know this journey may be hard, but do not despair so much. You'll get used to it." Sighing again, the Halfling's shoulders slumped before he turned to face his tall friend, who had taken a seat against the wall behind him.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it. Besides, that's not what's bothering me." The wizard's inquiring look urged him to continue. "I just don't understand why Thorin is so…_callous_. I may not be a fighter or protector—not even a burglar, mind you—but I do have my uses. Yet he continues to act as if I'm nothing but a burden. I help out, I carry my weight; but his attitude never changes and it's driving me crazy."

"Why do you care so much? Is being accepted into this group so important? You came here to gain an adventure for yourself; to have something to talk about, some experience to remember."

"Yes…I suppose you're right. But…I can't help but feel it has been a waste of time so far. It may just me being used to the friendliness of the Shire, but these dwarves are just so insufferable! It's hard to remember why I came after seeing how they treated me and my home when they were _my_ guests." To Bilbo's utter surprise and dismay, the wizard started chuckling. "Gandalf, this is in no way funny."

"My dear Bilbo, did it ever occur to you that maybe they're being insufferable for a reason? Or maybe someone in _particular_ is?" The Hobbit pondered that before he turned back to his friend with a confused look.

"What do you mean? Who?" Gandalf just scoffed at the Halfling's ignorance and walked over to the fire, lighting up his pipe. Just as Bilbo was about to turn back to his self-assigned duty, he caught the gaze of Thorin, who was half-glaring at him, and half-staring at him with curiosity. The Hobbit thought the leader would look away, like most do when caught staring, but he didn't. Bilbo caved first and ripped his gaze away from the king's intensely blue eyes, blushing and scrubbing his bowl even harder.

"Dwarves and their rudeness..." he muttered to himself, ignoring the dwarf behind him. So he didn't see Thorin's affectionate smirk from across the blazing fire.

* * *

Flames licked at his skin, blistering and burning. The Hobbit cried out in intense pain and crumpled in on himself. His legs would no longer work; he was stuck in this horrible Hell.

"Someone please help me!" He cried. Suddenly golden eyes were staring right at him through the flames and he was falling down a river of gold coins. Blue and purple scales flashed in his peripheral vision and he screamed in terror as he fell into a dark abyss.

"Bilbo! Bilbo!" Suddenly he was awake, staring into the worried blue gaze of Thorin. "Are you all right, Halfling? You were crying out in your sleep."

"I'm...I don't know..." his shoulders shook as he shivered with cold and fear. A heavy weight was placed on his back and he looked to see the dwarf king's fur-lined cloak enveloping his small form. "What..."

"I can't have my burglar catching cold, can I? You're already useless enough." Bilbo frowned at the insult, but turned to see a small smile on his leader's face. Not a smirk, glare or hardened stare. But an actual smile. Was this another dream?

"Is this a dream?" he asked uncertainly. The frown was back and stared at the Hobbit like he had lost his mind.

"Now, why would it be a dream? Have you gone crazy burglar?" Bilbo squinted his eyes in annoyance and laid back down on his uncomfortable bedroll, grumbling about rudeness. Raising an eyebrow, the king returned to his own bed, unable to fall asleep again.

The next morning everybody packed up like usual, ate breakfast like usual and marched across the boring landscape, like usual. All except Bilbo.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was different today. That dream...well it had been the most disturbing thing in his life. And what happened after, with Thorin, seemed surreal and imagined. There was no way that had happened, and if it really did, why? Thorin was back to treating him like the plague; a stupid, useless, tiny sickness that would infect him if he got to close.

_I wonder what is with the sudden change..._he mused to himself.

Suddenly a shrill scream pierced through the air, a dreadfully familiar sound that still terrified the Hobbit, despite how many times he had heard it before. Orcs. The group looked up to the hillish mountain they had just descended and saw several grotesque figures looking through the fields, pointing their swords down at the company before five Wargs shot over the side of the rocky terrain. Right at them.

"Run!" Gandalf shouted.

_No, let's just stay here and pet them_, Bilbo thought acidly. Really, the wizard's knack for stating the obvious was getting on his nerves; nerves that were currently frayed down to the very edges by a certain band of dwarves.

They dashed across the field they were in and into the trees. There were several large trunks with roots sticking out of the ground that they hid under, listening as the Wargs ran right past them and into the distance. Not a few minutes later, the Orcs, on more of their horrific beasts, streaked past them as well. The space was silent, no dwarf, Hobbit or wizard making the slightest sound. It must have been fifteen minutes before they climbed out of their varying shelters and cautiously looked around.

"They'll eventually figure out we're not headed that way," Thorin stated, pointed Ocrist in the direction their enemy had ran. "We must continue." They grabbed their things and turned to go when Bilbo's sensitive ears picked up the lightest snap of a branch behind him. He looked just in time to see a giant Warg slinking out of the bushes right at him. There was no time to unsheathe his sword or call out for help when he was flung twenty feet to the right, painful gashes across his tiny chest from the beast's claws.

His cry of pain alerted the others just in time for Kili to turn and shot and arrow right in its head, through the eye.

"Bilbo!" Fili cried, Bofur and him rushing toward their small friend, who was rolling on the ground in pain, clutching his chest. Blood seeped between his fingers and stained his crisp white shirt.

"Ugh, I just washed this..." he complained, delirious from blood loss. The dwarves surrounded him and looked on with worried glances; he was worried about his shirt at a time like this? Kili shrugged his shoulders, as if to say 'well, he is a Hobbit'.

The last thing Bilbo saw before the darkness claimed him was Thorin's worried sapphire eyes as strong arms picked him up into a warm embrace.

* * *

Cold. Hot. Warm. Cold. These were the things that went through the Halfling's mind as he slowly came back to consciousness. The different sensations felt good; like being cold then curling up in a warm blanket or sipping cool mint tea after a hot day of gardening under the suns light.

Eyelids fluttered open and the vague outline of a tall fellow with another crouching over him were all he could see. There was a voice, maybe talking to him, but he couldn't make it out. All he could hear was the rustling of tree branches as the wind swept through them and the chirping of far off birds. The world was hazy in his eyes and ears. Another figure stood over him and suddenly all the fog was sucked out and everything was abundantly clear. Sounds were too loud, the light was too bright, the ground far too hard for any being to possibly be comfortable on. Searing pain ripped through him and he whimpered before a cool hand was on his forehead.

"He's burning up; Balin, I thought you said he wouldn't get a fever!"

"His wounds are bad Thorin, there was never a guarantee."

"Just...hn..." Bilbo muttered, gasping in pain when he tried to speak. It felt like his gardening hoe was being raked up and down his lungs whenever he tried to breathe, much less talk.

"What?" The tall figure from before was Gandalf, who leaned closer to hear what his friend was saying.

"Just...go...you have to...go..." All three beings before him looked at each other, unsure of what he meant. "I'm...being a...burden again, aren't I? I'm...ugh...sorry for that. Just go...and continue your journey without, hn...this bothersome Hobbit." Eyes widened at his words, and everyone was speaking at once.

"We can't just go!"

"Stop speaking nonsense Bilbo Baggins!"

"Well, we wouldn't be delayed anymore."

"We can't leave him here to fend for himself!" The last was spoken by Bofur, and all were silent as they looked at their king, who was pondering his own response with crossed arms and a furrowed brow. He was remembering the time they got caught by trolls, the look Bilbo had given him when they threatened to dismember him. It was the same look now; Thorin couldn't tell if he was pleading for them not to go, or to save themselves instead. Stupid Hobbit.

"Bofur's right. He won't be able to care for himself out here. We stay here until he is well enough to travel, or at least be carried."

There were several cries of joy and grumblings of disagreement. All were silenced when Thorin glared at his companions, barking out orders for dinner to be made, patrols to be arranged and firewood to be collected. Through all of this, Bilbo stared at the dwarf king in amazement. They were staying behind? For him? On Thorin's orders?

When everyone but the leader was gone, Bilbo let out a half-hysterical laugh.

"What's so funny burglar?" Thorin growled.

"This _is_ a dream isn't it? That's explains everything. None of this could possibly be real; I'm still sleeping back in the horrid, wet cave. Or maybe I'm still in the Shire, and never even signed that blasted contract in the first place. Yes, that's quite plausible." After another laugh, Thorin let out a disbelieving scoff.

"You're not that creative Master Hobbit. Trust me; this situation you've gotten us into is very, very real."

"I...I do trust you. It's _me_ I don't trust."

"And why is that?"

"I never should have stepped out my door. You were right, up on the mountain. I have been lost ever since I left my home. I want to help you get yours back, I really do. But...I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it. I saved your life once; that's about the extent of my use."

"Twice actually." Bilbo looked back at his king, unshed tears in his eyes.

"What?"

"You saved my life twice, as well as everybody else's here too. The trolls, remember?"

"Oh...well still-"

"No. We will not abandon you a second time, so quit asking!" Bilbo was shocked by the outburst, and mutely nodded his head, a bit fearful of Thorin's fierce look.

"Why do you care? It's unlike you; two weeks ago you wouldn't have thought twice about leaving me behind." Thorin sighed before taking a seat next to his burglar, an indecipherable expression on his bearded face.

"That's the point. No one should be thought of that way, no matter how useless they are." For some strange reason, they both smiled and the atmosphere turned teasing and playful.

"Well, I suppose I should take that as a compliment, coming from you." A genuine laugh bubbled out of the Hobbit's lips before he could stop himself, causing a searing pain to rip through his torso. Thorin's worried expression caught Bilbo off-guard enough to let the dwarf get away with lifting up his shirt to look at the reddened bandages. Moaning as the cold air touched his heated skin, the burglar shifted and moaned again.

Suddenly a hot hand was running over his bare skin, raising goosebumps wherever it trailed. Bilbo gasped at the sensation and looked down to see Thorin was a distant look in his eyes and a nervous expression on his face.

"T-Thorin?" Just as the dwarf started leaning toward him as he answered, Kili came stumbling through the bushes saying something about dinner when he stopped midsentence and stared with wide-eyes. It occurred to Bilbo that their position would be considered questionable to foreign eyes.

"Oh…erm…sorry. I'll just, uh, come back later then," Kili hurriedly excused himself and didn't see the hand Thorin reached out to him.

"Wait!" the king yelled, but his nephew was already out of sight. "Blasted dwarfling…" he cursed. He looked down at the ground, contemplating it seemed, before he looked up with a rather devious smirk on his face.

"I'll bring you some dinner," he said getting up and taking his hand off of Bilbo's pale, creamy skin. As soon as the dwarf was out of site, the Hobbit grabbed the blanket and held it over his exposed chest, face as red as the ripest tomato. He was lean, with a bit of a chubby stature, and was embarrassed to have someone like Thorin—strong, muscled Thorin—touch him like that. And there was something else too…

Why had he been looking at Bilbo like that? There had been an odd, indecipherable look in the king's eyes before he seemed to snap out of it when Kili barged in. The look had been like he was holding something back, or trying not to say something. Something like…

Bilbo froze, wide-eyed at the thought. Had the look been…lust? He hadn't seen much of that before, but he knew what attraction looked like. Suddenly all the little pieces from the last few days—Thorin's unusual kindness, he decision to help the Hobbit instead of leaving him behind—started to make sense in a very awkward and unfamiliar way.

Did Thorin…like him?

"No, no, that's ridiculous," he chided himself. He looked down at the soft fur his fingers had been unconsciously gripping and saw that it was Thorin's cloak that was acting as his blanket. Suddenly he felt hot, uncomfortable and a bit clueless; the cloak on top of him proved his theory even more.

Bilbo fell asleep to these troubling thoughts, not seeing the dwarf king who kept watch over him until he next woke.

* * *

"You all right now laddy?" Balin asked after the Halfling stumbled and righted himself.

"Yes, yes, I'm quite all right." Five days ago, his wounds had healed enough for him to travel without someone having to constantly hold him up or help him along. And ever since that strange moment, Thorin had gone back to ignoring him. What Bilbo didn't know was that the king had been picking up the Hobbit's slack he didn't know he was leaving.

Thorin glanced back once to make sure this was really true before continuing his conversation with Gandalf.

The company was walking across a vast open field that day, the Lonely Mountain getting closer and closer with each day's journey. Flowers of varies types and colors brushed against their legs; it was a sad sight for Bilbo, all those beautiful plants being squashed by the careless steps of his friends.

Looking around, he quickly picked one and held it up, looking at the petals in the sunlight, at the veins running through them as if they were human. It was such a beautiful sight, this field, and it reminded Bilbo of the home he sorely missed. The wounds on his chest ached, further proving that he shouldn't have gone out his door. But he knew what could happen if he left, if last time was any consolation.

"Beautiful isn't it?" he turned to see Bofur staring at him and the flower in his hand. "You may not think it, but dwarves were the ones who planted these flowers. Miners from Erebor got sick of staying in the dark all the time, so when they were on leave, they would come out here and stare at the lightness of the field and flowers."

"Really?" Bilbo looked at the plants with new interest.

"Aye. But that time is long gone, and now this field is just a grim reminder of what was." Bofur picked a blue flower and gave it to his friend, then continued walking. Perhaps what Bofur had said was the reason the dwarves trampled over the delicate plants: because it reminded them of a time now lost.

Bilbo kept walking, picking flowers as he went.

* * *

"It's so nice to have some solid food in my stomach," Kili mumbled as he fell asleep against Fili's shoulder. His brother just chuckled and laid his head down, resting it against his sibling's.

They had managed to find some bread in a nearby village and, courtesy of Gandalf's stash of money, had been able to buy enough for the whole group. Bilbo nodded his agreement with Kili's statement as he dipped his bread in the soup Bombur had made, relishing the taste in his mouth. Memories of doing the same thing as a child with his mother's stew came to mind.

Bilbo looked up as he set his bowl down in the dirty dishes pile, and was shocked to see Thorin staring at him intensely. He glanced around to see if anybody had noticed, and blushed when the Durin brothers gave him knowing grins. Kili must have told Fili what he saw a few days ago when Thorin was checking his wounds. Bilbo turned back to see Thorin still staring at him, this time with a smirk on his face.

"You all done Bilbo?" Bofur distracted him from the king's gaze.

"Huh?"

"Are you all done?" The dwarf nodded to his empty bowl.

"Oh, yes I am. Thank you, Bombur; that was delicious." The large redhead smiled happily, dipping his bread into his stew like the Hobbit had done.

"Say Bilbo, you haven't told us much of your home," Bofur said. Nobody but him was really paying any attention to their conversation, but still, Bilbo smiled at the question.

"Well…it's an amazing place. I don't know if you noticed or not, but the scenery is beautiful, the people kind and everyday life full of peace and quiet. And when you go to the Green Dragon, the local pub, it's quite a time to be had.

"The house I live in has been passed down through generations of my family, and the garden has been there for at least three. That's what I miss the most I think; my garden. That's how I know about all of these herbs," he said. He had recently hunted down some plants he remembered from his gardener, Hamfast Gamgee, who had the greenest thumb in all the Shire. He made teabags from the ruins of a shirt Bofur had given him, and made pastes and salves for wound treatment.

"That sounds nice. You know, after we reclaim Erebor, I might just visit your little Shire. I didn't really pay attention when we were there before." Bofur draped his arm around Bilbo's shoulders as they continued talking about the Shire and what Bilbo missed from it.

During their conversation, Bilbo looked again at Fili and Kili. To his surprise, they were both staring wide-eyed at their uncle, who was glaring at Bofur so intensely, the Hobbit was surprised he didn't burst into flames. Why was he glaring like that?

Then Bilbo realized they were talking about his home again, something Thorin didn't particularly like.

"Bofur, you never told me what you used to do before this quest. In fact, I don't really know what any of you did before this adventure started."

"Well, ever since Smaug took Erebor, I've been working as a toymaker. I love to see the looks on children's faces when they get a new toy, and it uses my natural craftsmen skills as a dwarf. It was very good work, and I might take it up again in Erebor after things get cleaned up." Bilbo blinked in wonder. He never would have guessed Bofur was a _toymaker_ of all things.

Bofur kept his arm around Bilbo after they stopped talking, making the Hobbit a bit uncomfortable. He wasn't used the brotherly affection all the dwarves had started showing him, earning him teasing glances from the Durin brothers.

The fire died down and so did the talking. One by one, the dwarves started to slip into sleep or a light doze, as did Bilbo. His head fell limply against Bofur's shoulder.

Suddenly Thorin was yanking them apart, startling the sleeping dwarf and dozing Hobbit.

"I require the Halfling's presence."

"You do?" Bilbo asked tiredly.

"Yes," the king deadpanned and started walking toward the forest. He stopped to send a meaningful look over his shoulder at the Hobbit, who stumbled over and followed his leader into the woods. They stopped when they were some distance away from the camp, Thorin with his back to the now-awake and very confused Bilbo.

When several minutes of silence had passed, nerves made Bilbo speak.

"So…you wanted to talk to me about something, did you not?" Thorin turned to him with a troubled look on his face.

"Yes…well, I don't really know how to begin." Bilbo tilted his head to the side curiously. "I…I wanted to apologize for the last few weeks. I've been acting strangely and I'm sure you've noticed." The burglar nodded in agreement. "I wasn't sure how to approach you, because of how you saved my life. Being…tactful and patient are not my strong suits, so my repayment to you hasn't worked out as I'd hoped."

"Is that what this is about? _Repayment_? Thorin, you don't need to do that. I saved you because I couldn't watch you die. I would do the same for any other member of our company, just as you would."

"Someone like Bofur?" Thorin asked, bitterness in his voice.

"Well…yes. He does qualify as 'any other member of our company'."

"You two seem very close."

"Well, he was the only one who really talked to me at the journey's start. Besides Fili and Kili." They stood in an awkward silence for a while. Bilbo had a feeling Thorin wasn't saying what he wanted to say, whatever it may be. Nervousness grew in the Hobbit's stomach; did this have something to do with the lustful look the king had given him while tending his wounds? "Is there anything else?"

"No." The king looked away and Bilbo sighed at the look of confliction on his face, like a lost child.

"All right. Sleep well Thorin." Bilbo gently patted his shoulder and was going to return to camp when Thorin groaned and hissed in pain, clutching the arm his companion had touched. "Are you okay?" the dwarf nodded, gritting his teeth. "No. No you're not okay. Come here." For once the king didn't resist the Halfling's help. Bilbo gasped as he looked at the puffy red gashes in Thorin's arm, probably from Azog's Warg. "You should have treated these!"

"Dwarves heal quickly. There was no need."

"Well now there is! Go sit over by the stream, I'll get my stuff." He dashed off toward camp, got the bag of salves he had made and rushed back to where Thorin was sitting on a rock by the small trickle of water nearby the campsite. "All right, let's see…" Bilbo took out one of the pastes and started rubbing it over his leader's wounds, who hissed in discomfort at the sting. Ignoring the sounds of pain coming from Thorin, the Hobbit finished treating and bandaging the multiple bite wounds. "You should have told me about this earlier, otherwise it wouldn't be so painful now." The king just growled in response.

"Well, I'll give you these so you can apply them over the next few days. That should help your wounds heal well and-" Bilbo stopped speaking when a hand lifted his chin up. He stared into the sapphire eyes of Thorin Oakenshield, who had the strangest expression on his face. A mix of regret, gratitude and…_lust_. "Thorin…?" he muttered in question.

"Thank you Bilbo. Without you, I would not be here. Truly." Said Hobbit blushed at the praise and tried to lower his face again when a strong hand kept his chin in place. Bilbo could only stare as the dwarf opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if unsure what to say. Finally, with a set jaw and determination, he spoke. "I do not pretend to hide my feelings Master Baggins and I'm sure you've noticed them." Bilbo's eyes widened at the abrupt and unexpected confession as he stared at his king, open mouthed. "But you've yet to show me if you feel the same. So I ask you; does my affection bother you?"

"I…well…um…" the Halfling couldn't seem to get any coherent words to come out of his mouth as he stared at Thorin, blushing and flustered beyond belief.

"I thought as much," the king sighed before releasing his distressed Hobbit and gathering his shirts from the ground. Right as he was about to stand, a pair of lips landed on his and tiny hands fisted his shirt as Bilbo leaned forward and kissed him with all his might. The shirts fell to the ground and arms wrapped tightly around the Hobbit's frame as Thorin pulled him close and devoured his mouth in a hungry dance of tongue and teeth.

Both were breathing hard as they parted, and Bilbo was shaking slightly. It had been mere instinct to stop the king from leaving, and now his feelings were out in the open for him to see.

"Thorin…" he started. "I…I do not know much about attraction. I've never been with another, or looked upon another with love. But when I first met you…I didn't know what to think. I still don't know what to think or how to act in your presence. That's why I haven't…_done_ anything to show my fondness for you."

"Do not fret, my burglar. You are not the only one." Thorin lifted Bilbo up into his lap and kissed him fiercely, with all the passion he could muster. The Hobbit's hand burned like fire on his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to claim what was his at that moment. He could feel his arousal aching for the man he wanted, and it was obvious after a thrust of their hips that Bilbo felt the same.

Thorin laid out his cloak and gently put the Hobbit onto the soft fabric, propping himself up on his elbows as he kissed down Bilbo's neck. A moan came from his lips at the Halfling's feisty actions, who groaned at his minstrations. The king started to slowly lift the Hobbit's shirt up when a hand stopped him and he looked at his newfound lover in question.

"Thorin…your wounds…we shouldn't."

"My wounds are fine. I've waited far too long for this moment," he whispered into Bilbo's ear as his nipped his neck, purring when he saw a bruise blossoming. Now everybody, especially _Bofur_, would know he belonged to the king, and _nobody_ else.

"My king…wait…" he murmured, and Thorin stopped when he heard the uncertainty in the Hobbit's voice. "I've…I've never lain with another…I don't know how to-" he was quieted when a finger was pressed to his lips softly.

"You needn't explain yourself to me. I will wait for you." He said sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Bilbo's lips.

"But…" he had said earlier that patience wasn't one of his strong suits, and fear clutched Bilbo's heart to think Thorin might get…bored.

"Do not worry Halfling. I will wait for you as long as you want. Until you are comfortable." Thorin stood up and offered his hand to the Hobbit, who grabbed it and pressed a shy peck on the king's lips.

"Thank you," he muttered into the dwarf's chest, who held him tight.

"We should be getting back. I think Fill and Kili noticed we left." Bilbo laughed at that; yes, the probably would have. "What?"

"I think they knew all along about our feelings for one another. They figured it out before we did." Thorin laughed too, a deep throaty chuckle that vibrated through his chest.

"I would not be surprised."

They gathered Thorin's clothes and Bilbo's salves before walking back to camp hand in hand, sharing a sweet kiss before moving their bedrolls close and falling asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

I don't know what it is about authors of Thilbo Bagginshield and making them kiss when Bilbo is treating Thorin's wounds, but it works, so whatever. Seriously, like half the romance stories between the two start because of that situation.

Guys, this story has over 1k views since I updated, but only two reviews when people were asking for another Thilbo fic? Come on, show me some love!

Oh, and I now have a poll open on my profile page to see if my readers want another Thilbo fic or a Fili/Kili (Durincest) fic, so vote now!


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